


Homiphagia

by CaptainSchmoe



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cannibalism, Death, Eaten alive, Gen, Gore, You've been warned, worst of all there's a stupid pun in there too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 19:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13887663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSchmoe/pseuds/CaptainSchmoe
Summary: Anti's a perpetually hungry boy...





	Homiphagia

**Author's Note:**

> "Jack" is a separate person from "Sean."
> 
> "J.B." = Jackieboy Man. (I just like calling him that.)

Hollow pangs ache his gut. It’s constant, gnawing at his belly from the inside out. He looks the part, too. His bones give visible texture to his frame; weeping sores on his throat and hands are left unhealing. Hair stringy, thin, and oily. It’s constant, the struggle to maintain some degree of bodily comfort.

He eats his weight every day. He doesn’t feel he has to calculate that figure - it’s implicit in the greater bulk his alter egos have.  _Had._  He’s already eaten them, one by one. Picked their bones clean, and then cracked open even those for the succulent marrow inside. With every one, he played around with them, eating them in a different manner and experimenting with combinations.

_Jack: he just ate him piece by piece, figuring out that the kidneys, testicles, and brain were the best parts. The liver and pancreas, not so much._

_Henrik: he nibbled at his limbs first, trying to keep him alive and screaming bloody murder for as long as possible. Which wasn’t long; he passed out and died in about an hour._

_J.B.: he ripped him apart and organized his body into piles - bones, flesh, skin, and organs - and compared their masses. The flesh pile won._

_Marvin: he tried to keep him intact, using minimally invasive cuts to scrape out the goodies inside, but eventually gave up out of impatience, shredding him with no mercy._

_Chase: he went straight for the aorta, cutting it and sucking the blood out like a straw until he died minutes later from shock. And Anti continued sucking all the blood out of his largest vessels this way, until he was bone-dry._

_Jameson: he pulled out, sliced open, and scrubbed clean his colon, then he crushed and spread the other organs on top, rolling it all up like a pinwheel appetizer. He liked that. That was fun and tasty._

And now... Now there was only the vessel, Sean, left. Sean has the power to make more egos. He won’t. He probably hasn’t even noticed they’re gone yet.

Anti’s starving. He has no choice.

* * *

Here lies Sean, sound asleep in his bed. Anti needs him to not scream. So he sinks his claws into the back of his neck. They grow and curl around Sean’s vertebrae, and the venom seeps in through the flesh, locking his prey’s joints before he can even yelp or thrash. Perfect. The pretty girl next to him doesn’t need to know just yet.

He drags Sean down. Down, down into the depths of his domain, a chaos of alien geometries set in a dense gray haze. Down into the cleansing lake, where his innards will be scrubbed of their slimy filth and made edible like the rest of him.

Sean is awake for the whole process. And he feels everything done to him. He can scream, he can cry, but he can’t fight, he can’t even squirm as Anti digs into his abdomen and tugs at his intestines. He pulls them like they’re little more than a length of rope, up to and including the stomach, and cuts them out; he’ll get to it later. Now he reaches for Sean’s heart, shoving his way past the lungs, and leading Sean to unleash his final, weakened cry before the lights in his eyes go out.

Anti rips the heart away, and it quivers and quakes erratically in his hand before it drops dead for good. He gives it a couple squeezes, pushing some blood out over his hand. Squish. Nice, good squish. He licks it off. He can taste the epinephrine. Always a good seasoning; he will never go back to blood without.

Since spreading all of Jameson’s guts all over each other was so good last time, Anti decides to do it again this time. Mashing the liver and pancreas up with the brain make them more palatable.

He cuts the intestines in manageable pieces, and dips them and the stomach into the lake, scraping off the inedible sludge inside. Then, he sets the pieces aside, next to a large bag he’d brought here prior, and hollows out the rest of Sean’s gut. Every organ - save for one kidney and one testicle, he wants to savor their flavors on their own - he rips, crushes, and blends into mush. Then, he spreads some of it on a piece of colon, wrapping it up and shoving it into his mouth. It’s delectable. This is definitely how he’s going to keep eating the organs from now on. The brain is what’s holding it all together.

Piece by piece, he gulps Sean’s corpse down. He runs out of intestine before mush, so he simply grabs handfuls of it like an animal, holding it up in the air and letting it drip into his mouth. Naturally, quite a lot lands on his face. He laughs at himself.

With a final pop of the kidney and testicle in his mouth, his main course is complete. Anti then shreds the muscle, bags it, and carries it away to his home.

* * *

Here in his own home, down in his domain, Anti embraces the irony of watching Sean’s videos while mindlessly snacking on Sean himself. Normally, he doesn’t indulge in such a filthy activity. Support Sean? What a joke! But today, he wants to watch a dead man on camera, and look through the comments, laughing maniacally as he imagines the chaos that’s bound to be unleashed as everyone learns of their precious “coffee bean’s” fate.

* * *

The next day, he is still hungry. He needs to eat. He can’t stop eating. But there is no more food left. Sean is gone, the egos are gone, and there will be no more to come in that department. He will just have to find a new source.

The easiest meal he has access to is Signe.

Signe it is, then.

* * *

Her muscle and blood taste different than everyone else’s so far. Noticeably milder, less pungent. Perhaps it’s the estrogen. Or perhaps it’s whatever else runs through one’s system when they’re bawling their eyes out in grief. Regardless, he still kind of prefers the males, if only because they had one of the best parts. Though, the kidneys and brain are just as good as ever. And mashing everything up...  _Yum._

Now he can lay her bones to rest next to Sean’s. It’s only respectful. That’s what she would’ve wanted, right?

* * *

It’s almost pathetic, really. How quickly he goes hungry and needs to find food.

Yet it amuses him, targeting these Youtuber folks. Some of their fans are noticing already that neither Sean nor Signe are responding to their pleas of assurance that everything’s okay. And this time, it really is Anti to blame. Imagine that.

Soon, people will wonder where the hell PJ, Felix, Marzia, and Robin went, too.

* * *

More, more, more. He’s on a roll.

The media have taken notice. Ha. Mass Youtuber-murderer on the loose. Anti wishes them the best fucking luck finding him. Idiots.

But he needs more. It’s inconvenient having to travel just for one or two meals. If only he could get some sort of many-for-one deal like he could with Sean. Is there anyone else who has lots of characters like Sean did?

* * *

There is. Jackpot! Markpot?

* * *

Ha! This big, muscley guy and his loads and loads of clones out to keep him fed for weeks! He’s only gotten through about half of this one - the main man - and already he’s filled him up as much as an entire Sean!

He sure screamed funny, too. Surprisingly high-pitched and girlish for a big bass of a man. That’s a scream he’ll remember for as long as he lives.

* * *

 

Miscalculation: the group kept him fed for one week. No one fucking told him that fucking  _five_  of them were robots. In a rage, he’d ripped them apart. All those exposed wires didn’t stand up to the might of the everyday bathtub.

Whatever. This guy had a whole bunch of friends, a lot of whom were bigger than he was. He’ll eat them next. And there’s billions of people on the planet, always reproducing. And Anti’s not exactly human, able to swiftly avoid direct detection from the masses. He’ll eat as much as he pleases and laugh at everyone from the sidelines.

The guy’s dog, a golden retriever, is now padding to his spot on the middle of the now dark red and sticky floor, seeming more confused at the carnage than anything else. What a dumbass. Can’t it fucking tell that this red shit’s the remains of  _both_  of its human “parents”? Apparently not, since it’s gazing up at him intently, with big, soft brown eyes asking him for attention.

Oh, it’ll get attention, all right...


End file.
